


The Will To Try

by MagicallyDelirious



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014), killerwave - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Comfort, During LoT, F/M, Fluff, Lotsa head canon, Mick's POV, Pre-Relationship, care, injuries, it sort of got long, stubborn caitlin, stubborn mick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5655418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicallyDelirious/pseuds/MagicallyDelirious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick's been with the Legends crew for a while now. Things are different, but he's getting used to it, enjoying his new found sense of purpose, but he's just as stubborn as ever. Caitlin isn't having any of that. As a doctor and sort of friend she won't let Mick's stubbornness get him killed. Or how we think KillerWave happens. Give it a shot- It's a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Will To Try

**Author's Note:**

  * For [languageismymistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/gifts).



> This is for, and was created with the help of, the wonderful and talented YourTurningScarletScarlet on Tumbler. I might have veered slightly off course and gotten carried away, but I went with it anyway lol. The next part will hopefully be written by Scarlet herself (languageismymistress on Ao3). 
> 
> Hope you guys like it... Mick's background is personal head cannon... I think a lot of it is head canon lol. 
> 
> Please read, hopefully enjoy, and let me know either way!!!

Burns hurt the worst. More than getting shot, more than getting stabbed, more than any broken bone, or deep contusion. These weren't that bad, though. Mick had worse. He had the scars to prove it. Third degree burns covered more than thirty percent of his body, and more than half the rest was damaged in some way, shape, or form.

Still, it didn't stop them from irritating the shit out of him.

Fire had been the enemy for so long, too long. A drunken night, a jealous husband, a lot of shouting, too much shouting, a sickening crunch accompanied by pained cry, then silence, terrifying silence, before everything burned. Everything including eleven-year-old Mick Rory.

He didn't remember anything aside from that before waking up in some hospital weeks later, not only burned so bad he couldn't move, but an orphan. Murder, suicide, signed, sealed, delivered, and Mick went into the system.

The flames stuck with him though. The flames he remembered well. Watching as they danced all around him, while the acrid smoke filled his lungs, making it more and more difficult to breathe, making his eyes water so the dancing flames became blurry and indistinct. Mick watched them with a detached amazement as he burned, until he couldn't. When it got to that point a strange peace consumed him and he let it, burning all the while.

Mick had been a mess afterwards to say the least; physically and emotionally. Nightmares made it nearly impossible to sleep, and when he did, he woke up screaming. Needless to say he was shuffled around a lot. The system wasn't friendly, but especially not to someone like him, covered in those awful burns. The fire had taken everything from him, and he hated it.

That was until he met his first friend; Leonard Snart.

Len and Mick had become friends during their teen years. Mick had been wondering the streets during one of his particularly restless evenings. There was a younger girl, turned out to be Lisa, and well it hadn't been a pretty. Mick wasn't what one would call a good guy. He'd spent his fair share of time in juvie already, still he couldn't walk away.

The girl was a real spit fire too. Fought back with everything she had, gave them a real run for their money, but four on one; shitty odds.

Mick handled it. Took quite a few good licks himself, but the girl seemed to be much worse for the wear. When he'd tried to help her up, she'd freaked, but he was able to talk her down. He remembered getting a good look at the damage and the overwhelming urge to track those good for nothing low lives down for another round, but the girl insisted it wasn't from them, she got them from home.

That's when Len appeared.

Mick actually smiled remembering what happened after that. Len thought he'd attacked Lisa. He only found them by following her screams, and Mick thought Len was "home". Lisa screaming at them all the while. Len told her to run when they heard the sirens. She did, but they couldn't. Twelve months in juvie, eight with good behavior, and brothers ever since. Lisa and Len became the only real family he'd ever known.

"Control the fire, Mick, don't let the fire control you."

Leonard Snart had been the one to teach him to make the fire his own. To take back everything it had taken from him. The fire, the flames, the heat, the smoke, the pain, the destruction; it all belong to him now.

That was why he'd agreed to the time traveling hero thing. Lisa couldn't go, or didn't want to, her little science nerd tethering her to Central City. Mick never thought he'd see the day Lisa Snart did anything for a man that wasn't one of her brothers. He included himself in that, because she might not have been blood, but she was his family. Mick wasn't a hero, but Someone needed to watch Len's back.

What did he get for his loyalty? Burns.

It wasn't so bad, though. He knew pain, he knew burns, and he could handle it. He would not relinquish control.

Being part of a team, saving the world; it had given him a sense of purpose he hadn't known was missing, not to mention a whole new family of sorts, even Ray, who apologized profusely for causing said burns. Now, they were in Central, a lull in activity, Mick was alone, in pain, and more than irritated. He'd gotten used to having people around; weakness.

He was, however, glad Len had Barry. He'd been waiting for them to admit what he'd known since Len recruited him to steal that ridiculous finger painting. Len needed Barry, and in some ways Barry needed Len. He wouldn't go so far as to say Len deserved Barry, because people like them didn't deserve things like that; good things, beautiful things, things that made the world a bit brighter, happiness.

Not that Mick would say no if he found his Barry, and while he knew he would never actually deserve it, still, he'd take it. Lately he would even go so far as to say he wanted it. He wasn't what one would consider a good guy after all.

Mick sighed irritably as he went to the fridge for another beer. The cold helped the burns and the beer helped with the being alone.

He didn't exactly have to be alone. Lisa and Len had invited him along, but he didn't particularly like being the fifth wheel. Surrounded by people yet so alone, which was worse than actually being alone, alone. Making you want something you could never have. His friends were in love, he was happy for them, but it was the kinda love that made you feel like you were constantly intruding on a private intimate moment.

Worse was when Dr. Snow was there. Then they were the fifth and sixth wheels, making everything even more awkward. He didn't blame her for hating him. He'd probably hate him too if it were the other way around. He'd tell her what he'd rigged up when they kidnapped her hadn't been enough to do any kind of real damage, if he thought it would help. It was all just for affect; Len and his theatrics. Big flash, no boom.

Had it been real neither Dr. Snow nor Detective West would have walked away.

The way she looked at him, or well, mostly wouldn't look at him, told him there was no real point in bringing any of that up. He didn't like re-opening old wounds for Barry and Len, or Lisa and Cisco by extension.

He deserved all that and more, probably.

Mick was still in the kitchen resisting the urge to run his hands and arms under cold water knowing it would just hurt all the more when he took them out. The sudden banging on the front door was almost a welcomed distraction, but this was one of their safe houses, and he wasn't in prime fighting condition, so it set him on edge.

He scooped his Heat Gun off the table in his left hand, which was slightly less swollen and stiff than his other. Hopefully it was a mistake or something, because Len would not be happy if he accidentally burned down another safe house. He wasn't exactly too accurate with his left hand, and that was on a good day.

Whatever he expected or fears he'd harbored, where nothing compared to what he found when he yanked open the door; a very pissed off Dr. Snow glaring and clutching her bag with a white knuckle grip. She didn't even bother waiting for him to speak or invite her in, she just stormed passed him.

"Can I help you Dr. Snow?" Mick managed once the shock wore off as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Yes, you can start by not being an idiot," she snapped dropping her bag on the small kitchen table with a thud before she started to unpack it.

That wasn't exactly what he'd expected, honestly he didn't know what to expect really, and while he knew he was an idiot, he had no idea what she was talking about.

"I'm afraid I don't follow Dr. Snow," he tried to keep his voice even, but it was hard when he could see she was extremely angry with him, and he had no idea why. He definitely didn't like it, either. "Maybe if you explained what you're doing…"

"Don't you dare give me that, I'm afraid I don't follow bullshit, Mick Rory!" she cut him off and turned on him holding out a pair of weird scissors. "You of all people know how dangerous burns are! How easily they get infected! It's bad enough you don't come by for your regular checkups to make sure the time travel isn't having any adverse effects, but this is just… absolutely unacceptable!"

Mick was sort of gaping at her, or rather the pair of scissor things she was using to enunciate each word. She was here to take care of him? She was worried about him? He pushed those thoughts away and settled on it being her Hippocratic Oath or whatever it was called. Dr. Snow was a good person, a caring person, who wouldn't let even him die if she could prevent it.

"Take off your shirt," the Dr. ordered, which served to snap him out of it.

Normally Mick didn't fret about his scars. Not like Len anyway, who had tattoos all over his body to cover them, but suddenly he didn't want Dr. Snow to see them. Which was a little stupid, because she'd already seen them, and she was a doctor. Hell, he'd shown them to her before, proudly, but right now he didn't wanna.

""M alright, Dr. Snow," he insisted hiding his hands behind his back. "Just a bit of skin irritation is all."

"I'll be the judge of that," she turned towards him, daring him to challenge her. "Honestly you guys run around for weeks on end, with little to no sleep, hardly ever any recovery time, not to mention, god only knows what kind of microbes you might pick up in space or wherever it is you go…" she took a deep breath to try and collect herself. "You can't just brush things like this off, Mick. I worry enough without having to worry about you not getting proper medical care when it's readily available."

"Had worse," Mick shrugged, though it was painful, and he'd failed to completely hide his wince, trying to ignore the fact Dr. Snow just said she worried about him.

She Probably meant she worried about all of them. They couldn't exactly rush to the nearest hospital if one of them got hurt or sick. It would compromise the mission, and he knew despite everything, Lisa and Len were quite fond of Cait as they called her. He was also sure she was quite fond of them too, now they were on Team Hero.

"Cut the macho crap, Mick," Cait, he decided he liked Cait better, even if it was only in his own head, was now over by the sink running water over some gauze with a bottle of antibacterial soap set nearby. "Just because you've had worse and can handle the pain doesn't mean you have to, or should for that matter. Pain like that disrupts sleep, puts extra stress on the body on top of it all, slows down recovery time. "Toughing it out" is just stupid and unsafe."

She did have a point. He was exhausted, and when he'd laid down to try and catch some z's, hoping to sleep through the worst of it he couldn't stay still for very long.

"Maybe you could jus' give me some cream or somethin' then?"

"Oh no, Mick, not happening," Cait said sternly. "I learned my lesson with Lenny. You don't wanna worry people, I get that, but acting like it's nothing till you can't hide it anymore isn't helping anyone, especially you, then you'll be dead. No."

Mick knew what she was talking about. Len had gotten sick, just a Cold of sorts, he'd said. Barry had laughed, Captain Cold has a cold, but he still made him see Cait. It did no good in the end, because whatever it was, wasn't a just cold, and Len not wanting to worry Barry any farther, ignored it. It got worse.

No one was smiling three weeks later when Len was on a ventilator. Lisa and Barry's eyes were hardly dry the entire time, Cisco hardly left the labs. Mick had never been so terrified.

Cait, had blamed herself, hadn't slept until Len was out of the woods, said she should have checked up on him, tracked him down. She stayed strong, though, and it gave him strength, enough to get through it, to help Lisa through it.

Cait was like a lump of coal when put under immense pressure; resulting in the most beautiful diamond in the world. Traditional beauty wasn't his thing, but Cait was the exception.

"I'm too stubborn to die," he tried to reassure her, because even with those awful memories playing on repeat he didn't want to take off his shirt. "'Sides, someone's gotta have Len's back."

"You're stubborn alright, take your shirt off and sit," Cait gestured to a seat by the table.

Mick didn't like Dr. Snow being mad at him, and he definitely didn't like worrying her. He wanted to make the crease etched between her eye brows disappear, but for an extended moment he simply stood there fidgeting with his hands hidden behind his back.

He remembered her aversion to him when they first met, when Len had been incensed at The Flash ignoring him. He couldn't leave her alone, no matter how many times Len yelled his name.

Mick had wanted to scare her, terrify her, show her he was very much the monster she thought him. The burns hadn't been a bother to her though, she only asked about the graphs, and he'd been honest when he'd told her it showed him, and everyone else for that matter, who and what he really was; as ugly on the outside now, as he was on the inside.

The plan the night he'd burned, the night that transformed him, had been murder; double murder. It ended as it'd been planned, just with a body swap of sorts.

Dr. Snow was fierce and loyal, she reminded him a lot of Lisa in a way, but sans the sibling feels. She was beautiful and courageous and worried about The Flash, offering her life in exchange for his. He threatened to burn her… people like him didn't get beautiful things, he didn't deserve them, but he was selfish after all.

This time he didn't want to scare her, for her to see the ugliness that reflected the awfulness inside. He diverted his eyes.

"Hey," Cait said gently, startling him with her sudden closeness, her hand hovering just above his shoulder, not quite touching, but somehow he could still feel it. "I'm sorry."

That got his attention. He found her eyes. No one ever apologized to him, especially not someone who he really owed an apology. Her eyes were as soft as her voice, shinning with compassion, sympathy, and sorrow. She was so close and he could see the shine in her eyes were unshed tears. He'd put those tears there. Not on purpose, but he didn't like being the reason she looked like that.

"That was really insensitive of me," she continued as he struggled to find the right words for his apology, words had never been his thing. "It's not an excuse, I know, but I was just… so worried you know? We never know when or if you're coming back… and it's just… I dunno Mick, I just… really am sorry."

"'S okay," Mick replied finding his voice, needing to soothe her worries.

"It's not okay," she replied, but offered a small smile at his attempts to comfort her. "If it hadn't been for you, everything with Lenny… I don't know if I could have kept it together you know? I felt so responsible, and it felt like everyone was blaming me." Mick opened his mouth to protest. "I know now they weren't. I was blaming me, but you set me straight. Offered support when no one else could. I know how much Len and Lise mean to you, and you held it together, so I could hold it together. I never thanked you for that, so thank you."

Mick felt his own eyes widen in surprise, because he remembered her giving him strength, not the other way around. Sure, he'd told her it was Len's own damn fault, and there was no getting him to do something he didn't want, but that was because it was true. He never thought he'd helped her. He remembered feeling so useless and hopeless as everyone else did things to help and all he could do was keep vigil at his best friend's bed side.

"Think this is a bit backwards," Mick finally voiced his thoughts, because Cait was looking at him unsure and nervous. "I should be the one apologizin'. You know, for, well, everything before, when we first met and all. I should be the one thanking you. You saved my best friends life. Never gave up on him, even when any other doctor woulda."

"I… well," Cait said after a moment and he swore she was blushing a bit. His heart fluttered. "You're forgiven, though I kind of thought that was a given. As for saving Len, well, I couldn't really give up, Barry and all. I almost did though, I'm ashamed to say, but I didn't… because of you."

"You didn't 'cause you're a good person, a good doctor," Mick replied earnestly. "I had nothin' to do with it, though thanks for saying that anyhow, and accepting my apology. I'm no good with words… but thanks."

"You gonna let me feel like I'm a good doctor then, Mick?"

"You did that on purpose," Mick accused, but he was smiling, because she was smiling, and it made him feel less nervous about the whole thing.

"I did not," her voice full of mock indignation, but there was a playful glint in her eyes that made his stomach do a little somersault. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. You learn a thing or two hanging around a bunch a Rogues all the time, you know?"

Mick chuckled at that, he couldn't help it. He was glad he did when Cait let out the most gorgeous tingling giggle that sent pleasant shivers up his spine.

"What's the verdict?" Cait questioned with a cocked eye brow as her giggle trailed off. "Are you gonna let me feel like a good doctor, or are you gonna be a stubborn ass?"

"Well, I'm not okay with you thinkin' you're nothing but the most amazing kick ass doctor in the galaxy," Mick conceded with an exaggerated sigh. "I guess I can let my ego suffer, and let go of all the macho crap for a few minutes for a good cause. You learn a thing or two hanging around a bunch a heroes all the time, ya know?"

Mick was delighted when he was rewarded with another tinkling giggle.

That didn't last much longer though, because his nerves came back when he started trying to pull his shirt over his head. It was painful too. Some of the blisters had popped and the cotton was sticking. Pained hisses escaped him even as he tried to swallow them. It was hard work and left him a little breathless when he was done, but worse than that, Cait was standing there looking helpless and glassy eyed.

"'M okay," he assured her averting his eyes again, mostly because he didn't know what to do, which didn't exactly have the desired effect, because he was sure he was still short of breath and his scares in full were really a sight to behold.

Cait nodded, but seemed unable to respond. Mick felt his cheeks flush and his heart sink. He wasn't sure when he'd starting hoping for a different reaction, but he was suddenly very aware he had been. It hurt more than he cared to admit.

"You're in so much pain," she finally said, though it wasn't much more than a whisper. He couldn't help but look back up at her. "Oh Mick, why didn't you come to me."

"S' not so bad, doll," he had the overwhelming urge to reassure her again, which proved to be enough to push away his surprise at what caused her reaction.

"Do you want something for it," Cait asked digging through her bag. "Barry can't have pain killers, but I have some. It's only gonna hurt more once I clean you up."

"Guess so, if you got 'em, no fussing though," Mick couldn't even shrug. The scar tissue hurt all the time, but with new burns and blistered on top of that, it was almost surprising how much it hurt. "It'd be nice to sleep for a while. I'm kinda tired."

Cait nodded as she measured the dose, before she injected it muttering "Silly man," under her breath as a relieved sigh escaped him. They didn't speak much while Cait cleaned and dressed his wounds other than her muttering soft apologies when he winced or sucked in air.

Mick did his best not to show any discomfort, because it seemed to be hurting her just as much as it was hurting him. He concentrated instead on her gentleness, and the way he could feel her touch even with the damaged tissue. It was so… nice to be touched like that. Careful and gentle, like he meant something. Not to mention with the scar tissue and nerve damage all touches were dull aside from pain for some reason, but he could feel Cait as though it never happened, as though she was healing him somehow.

It was overwhelming, really, but he didn't want it to stop.

When it did, he fought the irrational urge to reach out to her, to beg her to keep going, against the thought that it was too bad there weren't more burns, because they would have been more than worth it if this was the result. Not in a sexual way per se, though that had crossed his mind more than once, but such a way that he'd never felt anything so… nice, and he wasn't ready to let it go.

His chest ached in a way he'd never felt before, when after she'd finished, she carefully rested her hand on his cheek. Mick couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and leaning into it if he wanted to. It was addicting.

"Better?" Cait asked quietly after a long moment and Mick just nodded relishing in her touch while he could. "You need to rest Mick."

The thought that he could go without any rest forever if it meant they could just stay like this popped into his head, but when she finally pulled her hand away his eyes slid open with another nod, mourning the loss of contact immediately.

"Come, on," she gave him a smile that looked sort of sad as she held her hand out to him.

He frowned a bit at what he perceived as her sadness, but took her hand in his. It was so tiny compared to his, he couldn't help, but smile at it.

"Surgeons hands," she smiled too when she saw what he was looking at.

"Precious," he replied with the first word that came to mind, receiving a gorgeous pink blush as he cradled it in his own as though it was the most precious thing in the world, and to him it was.

"Come on HeatWave," she teased, tugging gently, to let him know it was time to get to his feet. "I think those pain killers might be getting to you."

"No," he assured her, though he didn't know why, but he could still feel the pain and now that he was moving it was getting worse.

"It's going to hurt for a while," she said choosing to address his wince instead of his words. "Once you lay down I can try and work the scar tissue where I can. It helps loosen it, so it hurts less and you'll have more mobility."

"Sounds nice," Mick replied honestly as she led him over to the couch. "You don't gotta do that, though, you done enough already. More than I deserve."

"Non-sense," she brushed away his words. "Ray told me what happened when he called to see if you'd been to see me. Said it was his fault and he'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"He's exaggeratin'," Mick shrugged and winced as he tried to lower himself to the couch. "Ray's fine, I'm fine…"

"I understand," she cut him off in a way that made him look over at her.

"'S not that doll," Mick said quickly at seeing she looked a little dejected. "'S just I'm not used to people caring or taking care a me. It's been me and Len, and Lise for so long… never knew what it felt like at all before that… well, and you've done so much already, I don't know how I can even thank you. Stealing something pretty doesn't seem like something you'd like too much."

"No," Cait said through a laugh he hadn't been expecting making his stomach do that weird little flip thing again, before she got control of herself. "You can repay me by promising to come by the labs tomorrow and letting me change your dressings."

"Guess I can do that," his cheeks hurts in the best way from smiling so much. "'S real pretty, though. I think you'd like it. Might be worth gettin' it the honest way, if I get to see your eyes sparkle."

"My eyes?"

"Yea," he replied as his own slid closed of their own accord when Caitlin sat on the floor beside the couch and began to massage the scar tissue farther up his arm without any new damage. "Made me think a you first time I saw it. Precious, just like you."

"That's sweet, but I don't need pretty things," Cait responded after a moment. "I just need you to take care of yourself."

"You deserve pretty things," he mumbled back, determined to enjoy this for however long it lasted, though he never wanted it to end. "You deserve everything."

Cait apparently had no response to that, but she didn't pull away or stop. He would take what he could get, even if he didn't deserve it, he wasn't what one would call a good man after all.

Yet, as he fruitlessly fought against the sandman, with Cait's hands healing more than just his physical ailments, he thought he could be the kind of man that deserved beautiful things, or at least he would try. For Cait he would more than try. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I've been likes-to-icicle, come say hi on tumbler! :-)


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